


Not Even the Weather

by witching_wingthorns



Series: Into the Golden Age [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Awesome Merlin, Canon Divergence, Canon Era, Cheeky Merlin, Court Sorcerer Merlin (Merlin), Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, rated mature but it might really be teen and up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:14:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23828155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witching_wingthorns/pseuds/witching_wingthorns
Summary: At that, something bright flickered through Arthur’s eyes.“Is it magic?”“Yes, Arthur,” Merlin answered, almost laughing a bit, delighted with Arthur’s response even if he should be used to it by now. “Yes, it’s magic.”Merlin interrupts Arthur’s council. For once he actually has good reason to do so ✨🌧💙
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Into the Golden Age [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1632853
Comments: 36
Kudos: 395





	Not Even the Weather

**Author's Note:**

> So, as you may have noticed, this work is part of a series, but it can easily, _easily_ be read on its own. I hope you enjoy it! <3

Merlin barged into the throne room, dark-blue robes flowing behind him, doors swinging wildly to each side, which was possibly a little unnatural for doors of that weight, had maybe required a little, _little_ bit of magic, but Merlin rather thought he deserved the entrance today.

The knights were huddled around their king, standing behind him by his chair at the round table, their soft cotton clothes bathed in the last, hazy afternoon light as it streamed in through the windows.

They shifted their attention from the maps laid out before them as Merlin strode into the room, flashing Arthur a broad grin that was answered with a gleam in his eyes, with a sweet smile flickering over his face.

Well, it was for about half a second before Arthur managed to get a hold of himself, promptly schooled it into an irritated scowl instead.

“Council started half an hour ago, _Mer_ lin. You’re _late_.”

“No, I’m not,” Merlin said easily, smiling unapologetically as he manoeuvred between the knights to hop onto the table with practiced flourish, sitting on top of the maps in front of Arthur. “Because I’m declaring… that council is over.”

The irritation on Arthur’s face turned a bit more authentic, made his eyes squint together to accompany the prickly,

“Oh you are, are you?”

“ _Yup_ ,” Merlin said, popping the last consonant, looking around on the knights who were watching the exchange with steadily growing, poorly concealed amusement. “Thank you for your time, lads. You can all go now.”

Arthur made an agitated huff and took a step closer, making their legs brush together.

“They _absolute_ can _not_ , you have _no right_ whatsoever, we were right in the middle of discussing-”

“I have every right, actually, because _you_ gave it to me, Sire. Along with nearly every other right except actually sitting up on that throne there next to yours.”

Arthur pointedly ignored that, confined his reaction to the straightening line of his mouth, the little twitch in that nerve just under his right eye that Merlin had developed an absurdly erotic reaction to, had seen in far too many situations where Arthur was about to-

“And I’m fully aware of what you were discussing,” Merlin said, interrupting himself, forcing his straying mind back on track.

“Then you should know how important it is. You should know how many lives are at risk, how vital it is that we handle this with-”

“Yes. I know.” Merlin’s voice turned softer at that, because while he didn’t believe for a second that Arthur was genuinely upset with him, he _did_ understand what was at stake, had watched how it had troubled Arthur, how it had dug lines into his face and ruined his sleep. Had hated every last, cursed second of it. “And I need to discuss it with my king. In private.”

“You need to discuss it in private… _right now?_ ” Arthur asked, his tone going a bit softer too, sounding more confused than annoyed now. “You couldn’t have brought it up earlier when we were… when we were actually _alone?_ ”

“No, I’m afraid I wasn’t quite ready then. And besides-” The cheeky smile forced its way back to Merlin’s face, tugged at the edge of his lips. “I seem to recall that you were somewhat _preoccupied_ this morning, Sire, _very_ insistent that we-”

One of Arthur’s hands flew up to cover Merlin’s mouth, his expression growing thunderous in a way that anyone, even his knights would find menacing, but Merlin mostly associated with the same things as that twitch under his eye.

“ _Council’s over,_ ” Arthur declared in a curt manner that was probably meant to be regal, might’ve been a bit more so, if he had actually managed to look away from Merlin for a second to say it. “We’ll reconvene later.”

“Aww… We don’t get to stay for the show?”

Arthur spun around at that, sending Gwaine a seething glare along with an admonishing, “You get to _leave_ , Sir Gwaine, when I tell you to. And in your case you may also join the patrol riding out this evening, since you’re utterly _useless_ at these meetings anyways.”

Gwaine slumped, looked sulky as he started walking out of the room with the other knights. Looked almost _dejected_ actually, which was a rather rare sight for him, but then Arthur wasn’t usually this harsh on him, was probably struggling to be patient under the weight of the impending crisis.

“ _As for you…_ ” Arthur said in a low voice, turning back to face Merlin, leaning down over him as the last knight closed the door behind him. “You better have a _really_ good excuse for this.”

And Merlin did, he _really_ did.

But he also couldn’t quite resist asking,

“And if I don’t?”

“Then-” Arthur leant down further, forcing Merlin to lie down on the table, started crawling up on it himself, “You are in serious, _serious_ trouble.”

“Mmmh,” Merlin hummed as he was pushed further up over the smooth, wooden surface, feeling Arthur’s mouth on his neck, pressing sweet kisses and sharp, little nibs into it that would likely stay on his skin, join the other, numerous marks that seemed to perpetually cover it. “I _do_ hate being in trouble.”

Arthur chuckled into him and moved up to kiss him, hard and desperate, letting all his frustration pour into the movement of his lips, his tongue, his teeth.

“I hate this situation,” he murmured into Merlin’s mouth, hands clawing at the fine fabrics he had practically forced him into when he had finally been able to give him his proper position at court. “I hate these councils, these meetings. We’re not doing anything, not solving anything, just _structuring_ the misery, telling the people _how_ they must suffer. There’s no beast to slay, no quest to go on, just this _horrid_ , unrelenting weather and the way it’s killing the crops, killing my people’s livelihood.”

“I know,” Merlin murmured back, tone soft again for a moment, until Arthur’s hands were on his breeches, pulling them open forcefully, and he had to will himself into remembering the agenda he had come with before he found himself naked on the round table, being pounded into it by its furious king.

(Again.)

“Arthur, wait, wait, that’s not why-” He caught Arthur’s hands, dragged them away from his crotch to give himself a moment to clear his mind. “That’s not what I came here for.”

“Oh,” Arthur said, sitting up to straddle Merlin, looking dazed and more than a little disappointed. “Right… You wanted to discuss the drought.”

“Yes, well… Actually,” Merlin said with a gentle smile, “I wanted to show you something.”

At that, something bright flickered through Arthur’s eyes.

“Is it magic?”

“Yes, Arthur,” Merlin answered, almost laughing a bit, delighted with Arthur’s response even if he should be used to it by now. “Yes, it’s magic.”

A curious, expectant smile broadened on Arthur’s face and he leant down to give Merlin one last kiss, before he crawled off the table and sat down in his chair, demeanor shifting easily from hungry lover to composed king.

“Show me then,” he said, voice firm and sure.

Merlin crawled off the table to stand before him, straightening his clothing and feeling an excited buzz in his stomach, feeling immensely grateful that he could come directly to Arthur with this, instead of trying to solve everything on his own as he once would have.

He closed his eyes, focused on the words he’d spent the last couple of days studying, had given a final test in the forest just an hour earlier. He felt them take shape in the back of his throat, felt how they started to tumble down over his tongue like water drumming against skin, the taste of them so clear and simple and right. He felt the way the air grew heavier at the sound of them, felt the humidity gathering around him and then-

Then the first, wet drop in his hands where they were stretched out in front of him.

He repeated the spell a few more times to make sure it was strong enough to serve as a demonstration, then opened his eyes to inspect the little cloud that hovered before him, shifted his gaze to Arthur who was no longer sitting down but standing up with an astonished look on his face, with his mouth slightly open.

“ _Merlin_ ,” he said with so much admiration, so much adoration that it flooded Merlin with a warm surge of glowing affection, drew out a giddy smile on his face, “You’ve- You’ve made… It’s… _rain_.”

“So it is,” Merlin agreed, voice a little more cocky than he had intended it, fingers running through the cloud to feel the strange, cool texture of it.

“But you said it wasn’t… Couldn’t be…” Arthur started, inspecting the cloud himself, holding up a hand to feel the water drops that started landing on it. “And now, you’ve… _Oh_ , _Merlin._ ”

He looked at him through the haze of the cloud, so intense and wonderful that Merlin had to look down, felt his insides going wild with the sense of accomplishment, with the utter pride of being able to do something that moved Arthur like this, that lifted so much weight from his shoulders.

“And outside? In the sky, can you make it-”

“Yes.” Merlin reached out to him, ran a hand down over a slightly stubbled cheek. “Yes, I can.”

Arthur grabbed his hand, pressed a hard kiss into the palm of it.

“I wanna… _see._ Can I see? Outside, I want-”

“Yes.” Merlin stepped forward to give him a quick kiss, then tugged where their hands were connected. “Yes, you can. Come on.”

He dragged him out the door, down a hallway, up a staircase that lead them out to the top of one of the towers. The sharp wind greeted his face as he stepped forwards towards the battlement, Arthur still in tow behind him, Camelot stretching out before them in dusky twilight.

Merlin took a deep breath, felt the cool, fresh air fill his lungs and the slow buzzing in the world before him, the magic beating in it. The way it matched the beating of his heart. He let his eyes fall shut and took another breath to fill himself with that power, let it simmer in his blood until he could feel his irises starting to glitter with it. He turned around to Arthur, reached out to him with a firm,

“ _Come_.”

and Arthur’s hand was pressed into his, warm and rough.

Merlin pulled, pulled him close so he could brush his nose against Arthur’s, trail his lips over his, feel the warmth, the softness of them. He caught the bottom one between his own, licked it for a moment before deepening the kiss, angling his head to press his tongue in. One of his arms snaked around Arthur’s waist to get him even closer, to feel the familiar, firm shape of his body, while the other one filtered into lockes of soft, blond hair.

Merlin knew, had known for a while, that there was as much strength in this connection as there was in the one with the land around them, could feel it so clearly when they were like this, when Arthur was pressed close against him, humming into their kiss, his soul intertwined just as tight with Merlin as his body was.

Arthur let his hands come up to cup Merlin’s face, indulged him for a few minutes, before he pushed him back an inch, mumbled an annoyingly self-satisfied,

“Thought this wasn’t what you came for, _Mer_ lin.”

And Merlin grabbed his wrists and pried them away, leapt forward to take more greedy kisses, smiled into them while he muttered,

“ _Shut up, prat_.”

Arthur chuckled at that, did shut up for a while as he backed Merlin into the stone parapet behind them, grabbed his arse to hoist him up and made the whole thing a great deal dirtier when he started moving his hips in slow, deliberate rolls, pressing his crotch rhythmically into Merlin’s.

At that, Merlin almost forgot what they _did_ come up there for, steadily lost himself to every wonderful sensation going through him, to the deep intoxication that Arthur never failed to flood his senses with.

Then Arthur was withdrawing again and Merlin couldn’t help making a little whimper at that, felt easier for a moment as Arthur let their foreheads press together, let his breath fall softly over Merlin’s mouth. But then he was stepping back, letting go entirely, and Merlin immediately wanted to follow, craved more as he always did, was stopped only by the firm look in Arthur’s eyes, the way his shoulders were straightening.

“Cast the spell, Merlin,” he said and his voice was so regal, so utterly mesmerising that Merlin couldn’t respond with anything but an unusually deferential, utterly content,

“Yes, Sire.”

He turned to face the wall, wobbled a bit on his feet, felt rather drunk altogether as he went to one of the lower parts of it and tried to climb up, fingers scrambling against the dry rock, too-long legs working to find a crack in it and push him up onto it. When he finally managed it, he slowly stood up, looked into the night that was falling on the landscape before him. Heard a little,

“Do you… Do you really need to be up there?”

behind him and smiled, looked back over his shoulder to say (a somewhat less respectful),

“No, Sire.”

“ _Mer_ lin.”

“It’ll be fine, Arthur,” he said, reassuring, the cockiness draining from his voice, “It’ll be better like this.”

He inhaled deep again, appreciated how the press of Arthur’s body was still palpable against his skin, how it was still filling him with a prickling, heady energy that ran alongside the gentler one he’d been soaking up from the wind, from the soft light of the stars that were slowly becoming visible against the violet canvas stretching out above them. He reached out with his arms, waited for Arthur to complain again, figured after a moment that he wasn’t going to do so and let his attention shift fully to the task at hand, to the words he’d memorised.

He felt the imbalance in the sky, how the earth below was wiltering because of it and let the first syllables start to form in his mouth, heard how they leapt from it to call out to the lakes, to the ocean. Felt their answer when it came, how it drew up in the air around him, a soft, cool touch of humidity at first, then a heavier, wetter thing that started drawing together, forming one light-grey cloud then another, as the words came together as a chant, each one linking into the next until it was one fluid chain of sound, of magic, spilling into the air, drawing more and more water into it.

The scent changed slowly as the sky darkened, as the soft texture of clouds started blurring out the moon, hiding it more and more until there was a turning point, some threshold being passed and Merlin sensed it a moment before he finally felt it against his skin;

The first rain drop, heavy and cool. It was just like the one in the throne room, except how it wasn’t, except how it was a wilder, freer thing that wasn’t there because of Merlin’s will but because it was supposed to be.

After the first came the second, then the third, the fourth and they became uncountable, immeasurable as they poured from above, crashing down like they were making up for lost time, relieved to finally soften the dryness that had developed in their absence, that had damaged the plants they were meant to keep alive.

Merlin felt them over his face, soaking into his hair, into his clothes until they stuck to him, cool against the power that was still sizzling in his blood.

He let out a content sigh, released the spell he’d been holding and left nature to restore itself. Then he turned around to jump back down from the wall, felt his feet move too quickly under him as they didn’t find the friction they’d expected on the now-slippery stone, felt how they were suddenly gone, leaving him with nothing to support himself and-

A strong hand clamped into his arm (as it often did when Merlin was about to fall), brought him up easily, steadily until he was back on his feet, looking into a set of familiar blue eyes that were framed by wet-slicked, golden hair.

Merlin’s stomach did a slow, aching-sweet turn with the look on Arthur’s face, the emotion that was overtaking it.

He let his hand come up to wipe away at the wetness under his eyes.

“It’s not… It’s just- just the rain.”

Merlin smiled at him, soft and without challenge, said a gentle,

“Of course it is, love.”

Arthur’s lips lifted halfway into an answer of Merlin’s smile, then he drew Merlin in for a sweet kiss, one nothing like the hungry ones they usually shared.

“ _Do you have any idea…_ ” he mumbled against his lips, “ _Any idea how many people you’ve…_ ” He trailed off with a little sigh, with another careful kiss to Merlin’s lips, to each corner of his mouth.

Merlin didn’t quite know what to say to that, had gotten better at this but still struggled with Arthur’s praise when it was of this magnitude. So he just returned Arthur’s soft touch, the gentle movement of his lips, held back his protest when Arthur withdrew a little to hold his face in his hands, to search him for an uncomfortably long time as his piercing gaze conquered every wall Merlin had ever built.

“ _You should be…_ ” he mumbled, barely audible against the steady pattering of rain around them.

“What…?”

Arthur took his hands and squeezed them, lifted the left one to press a kiss into it, to murmur, “On the throne-” and did the same with the right one, this time with, “next to mine,”

Then he raised his gaze to Merlin’s.

“ _Oh_ ,” Merlin said, a bit breathless, his mouth dry suddenly, his stomach doing another, heavier flip and he _wanted_ , of course he did, wanted _so much_ , but- “Arthur… We talked about this, we agreed it was enough that-”

“It’s not.” Arthur let go of Merlin’s hands, cupped his face with one of his own, placed the other gently on Merlin’s shoulder. “It’s not enough.”

Merlin bit his lip as he felt the full weight of Arthur’s influence weighing against him, as he felt that bone-deep pull that never failed to fill his heart with urgent, aching longing.

But he knew the struggle Arthur would have to go through to make this happen, still knew every reason they’d had when deciding against it in the first place and-

“Arthur, the nobles…”

“I don’t care.” The muscles in Arthur’s jaw were working, setting themselves rigid and firm. “It’s the only thing that’s right, Merlin.”

Merlin’s lips curved up slightly, entirely on their own volition, and _oh,_ he just…

He just loved Arthur every part of every day.

He loved him in the morning when he was barely coherent but still greedy for Merlin’s body, still so hungry for every little part of him. Loved him in the evening when he was so tired he could barely stand but still gentle in his affection, still insistent on showing it through his touch and his kiss. He loved him on the battlefield, powerful and deadly, glowing with Merlin’s magic as it curled happily around him, shielding him from any harm. Loved him on his throne, listening to his people and helping them the best he could, trying to make the right compromises, find the right priorities, never failing to listen to Merlin or anyone else who had good advice to give him.

But there was something special about how he loved him at moments like this one, when Arthur wasn’t just his lover or his friend, wasn’t just his destiny, the king of Camelot, but _Merlin’s_ king. So splendid and beautiful, looking at him in a way that proved beyond a doubt that he had become everything he was meant to be. Everything Merlin was meant to help him be.

It was overwhelming, really, overtaking as it flooded Merlin with so much devotion that it flared through his soul, thundered through his magic, and he just…

He never knew what to _say_ , what he could do with himself that wasn’t kneeling in front of Arthur and pledging himself over and over and over, that wasn’t kissing Arthur senseless, biting at his lips and his neck, fucking into him, harder and harder in a desperate attempt to be closer to him. Didn’t know how to express all of it or any of it and so ultimately he just said,

“You…. You always were incredibly _stubborn_ ,” which of course made Arthur smile gently as he heard everything behind that sentence in the tremble of Merlin’s voice, saw it in the shine of his eyes.

“Yes,” Arthur agreed, so soft as he leant in to brush his lips over Merlin’s again, to murmur a low, “ _Marry me_ ,” against them.

“And used to… used to getting your _way_ ,” Merlin murmured back, voice cracking a bit now, not very convincing with the would-be-admonishing, “ _Spoiled,_ really.”

“Yes,” Arthur agreed easily, smiling wider as he said another, “Marry me,” sounding so sure about it, so certain Merlin would give in.

“And usually…” Merlin tried again, running dangerously low on objections already, “Usually a proposal is a question and not a command.”

Arthur chuckled, held Merlin’s face with both hands to say a mockingly serious, completely ridiculous, “ _Merlin_. Marry me,” before he lost his commanding grimace to another wide grin, to a bit of crazed laughter as he kissed Merlin deeper, added a satirical, drawled-out, “ _Please_.”

Merlin laughed a bit too, sort of winded and sharp, just as delirious as Arthur. He felt the last of his resistance slip away as he allowed himself to believe that this wouldn’t be too hard on Arthur and said a capitulating,

“ _Okay._ ”

The jest fell off Arthur’s face as every bit of Merlin’s adoration started reflecting in it and now Merlin was sure he was crying, breaths coming in unevenly, eyes glossy in the moonlight, voice almost a bit choked when he murmured back a little,

“Okay,” and drew Merlin in for a deep hug, pressing his face into his neck, trembling lightly against him.

Merlin let his arms curl around Arthur in return, pulled just as hard as Arthur did him and there was something releasing in him now, an untying of some last knot of things he’d told himself he couldn’t have, wasn’t meant to have, didn’t really need to have. There was light, Arthur’s light, unyielding and uncompromising as it overtook every shadow in its path and Merlin buried himself in it, dissolved in it until all he could feel was a buzzing, bubbling joy spreading out through every inch of him. Until the rain was coming down faster and faster, drenching the kingdom in life-giving water, drenching their clothing until they were completely soaked but warm still, pressed so close together, body-heat searing against the downpour, knowing that as long as they were like this, as long as they were together like _this_ , nothing, not even the weather, could harm their kingdom.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 🥰 I hope you’re all doing well during these unusual times <3
> 
> I made a little banner for the story that you can see on my tumblr if you'd like: [ https://witching-wingthorns.tumblr.com/post/616317525082423296/ ](https://witching-wingthorns.tumblr.com/post/616317525082423296/)
> 
> Anyways, if you liked the story I’d be very grateful for kudos/comments 💕 💕 Receiving either never fails to make me very, very happy ☺️😃
> 
> Also, to anyone who might be waiting for an update on my WIP: Don’t worry! I’m working on it, I promise ;) I _am_ a bit more busy at the moment because I just started a new course, but I’m actually getting pretty close to finishing the upcoming chapter so stay tuuuned :D


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